


This Is A Thing

by lalazee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, OtaYuri Week 2017, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 12:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9897857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalazee/pseuds/lalazee
Summary: “There’s a thing, right? A thing here. Not just when I’m drunk, right? I mean, between us. Or, from you, maybe. I don’t know if I noticed for a long time or just didn’t think it would work or –”“Yuri. What the hell are you talking about?”Written for Otayuri Week, Day 2: Celebrations.





	

“I’m a motherfuckin’ Olympian!”

Yuri hiccuped and leaned against Otabek’s shoulder as he drove them both back to Yuri’s apartment.

Otabek had decided that there had been celebration enough for the night. Knowing Yuri as he did, there would be more to follow in the coming days, anyway.

And, as Yuri’s forever unofficial designated driver, Otabek was more than happy to being him home safely for the hundredth time in the course of their friendship.

He was also more than glad to acknowledge Yuri’s exclamation, even if it was going on half a dozen times.

“You certainly are.”

“Imma gold medalis’,” Yuri said, his words slurred but still filled with wonder.

“You were the best. It’s what you do,” Otabek said placidly as he parked in front of Yuri’s building. “We’re here.”

The night was pitch black, the early hours of morning cloaking Moscow with only spare streetlights to illuminate the car in dingy orange. Otabek unbuckled his seatbelt and automatically undid Yuri’s. Five years of friendship was long enough to remember that the ever-graceful-on-ice Yuri Plisetsky was about as nimble as a newborn fawn when intoxicated.

Otabek had been here many times before. Yuri needed a guardian.

Otabek was just glad he didn’t have to watch Yuri find some strange man to take him home instead. That always left him on edge all the way until the next time Yuri contacted him.

Yuri was edgy and easily distracted by affection.

As a show of solidarity and support, Otabek tried to fly in to wherever Yuri’s large performances were held, but he could never make them all. He still had his own career.

Yuri’s warm hand wrapped around Otabek’s wrist caught his attention. Yuri’s eyes appeared pale in the dim light, colorless and intent upon him.

“Sorry,” Yuri said earnestly. “Since you got bronze and all.”

Otabek couldn’t help the curve of his lips.

“I wouldn’t rather have lost to anyone else.”

“That fuckin’ JJ getting between us,” Yuri said with a comical scowl. “Next time we’re invited to his place I’m gonna rub my ass on his medal.”

“Please try to refrain from rubbing your ass on anything. Let’s go up now and get you in bed.”

“Wait.” Yuri’s hand tightened on Otabek’s wrist as he leaned in. “Thanks. For everything. For a million things.” 

“Oh.”  
  
Otabek took in Yuri’s wide eyes, his lashes which had grown sinful in length with age, the mess of intricate braids gone a bit awry and frizzy like a halo in the tangerine glow.

Otabek’s chest ached with a long-ago dimmed light he refused to let shine.

“You don’t need to thank me. We’re friends. This is what we do.”

“But you’ve always done more, y’know?” Yuri leaned in further, his free hand setting upon Otabek’s thigh for balance in the small car. He cocked his head a little, his eyes sharpening despite all the drink. “Why is that?”

“I –” Otabek flicked a look to Yuri’s hand, a hot imprint upon his thigh. “I don’t –”

“There’s a thing, right?” Yuri’s voice had grown hushed, urgent as he searched Otabek’s expression. “A thing here. Not just when I’m drunk, right? I mean, between us. Or, from _you_ , maybe. I don’t know if I noticed for a long time or just didn’t think it would work or –”

“ _Yuri_ ,” Otabek said, more sharply than he’d intended. How could he possibly be gentle when he felt a fire burn within him, that flame and light bursting to escape. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Yuri’s lips parted as he almost frantically scoured Otabek’s face for a moment.

“ _This_ ,” he said, and dove in.

His mouth flashed to Otabek’s like lightning, sparks shocking along the length of Otabek’s spin as they both instantly launched into the storm. Waves of Yuri washed over him. The taste of his tongue, his desire, the scent of his arousal, his hot blood rushing just beneath the skin, the urgent grip of fingers around Otabek’s wrist as the other hand climbed up his thigh.

Awash with overwhelming surges of relief and shock and ravenous need, Otabek yanked himself back for air.

Both his hands were tangled in Yuri’s hair, his fingers gripped between weaves of silken braids. He loosened his tight grip immediately, wondering how or when he had even lost enough control to reach out.

Yuri didn’t move, didn’t back away. His breath was hot against Otabek’s pulsing lips, his eyes all blown pupils and awed stare.

“That’s a thing, right?” He said, his voice fucked out and raspy already. “Because if it is, I want another five years of it to make up for the last.”

Otabek regarded Yuri quietly, his thumb brushing the sharp line of Yuri’s cheekbone.

“Be careful. I might feel like I’ve won the gold more than you tonight.”


End file.
